


The Confession

by Jasitala



Series: The Confession [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon is Not a Virgin, Daryl gets what he wants, Daryl's PoV, Experienced Daryl, Jesus takes what he gets, M/M, That doesn't mean that he can't blush, and likes it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-17 10:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jasitala/pseuds/Jasitala
Summary: Rick makes a confession.  It changes everything.





	1. The Meeting of Paul Rovia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Queenoftheuniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenoftheuniverse/gifts).

> Hey, y'all. Normally, I am a fanfic connoisseur, not a fanfic writer. But I got tired of practically every Daryl/Paul story having the same overused plot.  
(Ex: Virgin Daryl hates Jesus at first, and continues avoiding him for a long time, but then Jesus sees his scars, Daryl breaks down about his pa, and then they fuck.)
> 
> This is not that story. 
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> (also, IDK how to HTML the weird spaces outta this fic for now. I'll google it later.)

“It’s soda and candy. Why the trouble?” 

“It ain’t any trouble,” I quietly replied. And it really wasn’t. I like fulfilling special requests, and Denise wanted soda for Tara. I was just about to tell Rick as much, when someone slammed into him. 

The stranger looked alarmed, and turned around quickly to face us, raising his hands above his head as we raised our guns. “Hi,” the stranger greeted, and I could tell the asshole was smiling from the crinkles that formed around his eyes, even though the rest of his face was covered in cloth. 

“Back up, now!” I yelled, my gun pointed directly at the stranger’s head. 

“Keep ‘em up!” Rick reinforced. 

The man kept his hands raised, but his hands turned, facing his palms towards us. “Whoa, easy guys. I was just running from the dead.” 

I didn’t believe him and peeked around the corner he flew around just before runnin’ into us. There were no walkers. “How many,” I asked, knowing his answer wouldn’t be the zero I saw. 

The covered man shrugged. “Ten, maybe more. I’m not risking it. Once it gets to double digits, I start running.” 

“Where?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. 

“About half a mile back.” That would explain why I couldn’t see them, yet. There was a treeline less than half a mile back. He continued, “They’re headed this way. You probably have about eleven minutes.” 

Rick seemed to except the answer. “Okay,” Rick said as he lowered his gun. “Thanks for letting us know.” 

The man still had his hands in the air. “Yeah. There’s more of them than us. Gotta stick together... Right?” 

I took pity on him, since I didn’t feel he was a threat, and lowered my gun. 

He finally dropped his hands to his sides, and asked, “Ya got a camp?” 

“Nah,” I said, but Rick cleared his throat. I gave him a pointed look. “What?” We don’t hand info out to strangers on a whim. ‘What is Rick doing?’ I thought. 

“We do.” Well, shit. “We have a community. We’re headed back there now, if you want to join us. It’s loaded with supplies, which is great because our people are starving.” 

I glared at my brother. Now he's revealing our weaknesses too? But, he’s the leader. 

Rick coughed and looked down at his shoes. “My baby girl, my son...” 

I knew he felt guilty for not being a better supplier for his family. And Carl and Judith weren’t his only family; everyone at Alexandria was. 

The man pulled his bandana off of his face. The first thought I had was that he was strikingly handsome. “You have a baby?” he said, reverantly. I got the feeling that he hadn’t seen a baby in quite a while. Possibly before the dead started walking. 

“She’s only about a year old.” 

Paul shuffled his feet, looking embarrassed. “I have a community too, but, well, we aren’t starving. We grow our food. Got animals and everything.” 

He reached into his pocket and retrieved something, holding it out to us. I walk forward, palm up, and he drops the keys to our truck into my hand. That little bastard! I wanted to punch his lights out, and he must have sensed it, because the man backed up fast, raising his hands once more in surrender. “I thought you guys looked like trouble, and my people need stuff too. But I know better now, and I’m sorry.” 

He really did look distressed. His eyes met mine, and I melted a little. He was too damn gorgeous for my own good. 

I tossed the keys to Rick, who expertly caught them, and reached out to the stranger. “ ‘M Daryl, this here’s Rick.” 

“Paul Rovia,” he returned, shaking my hand, “But my friends call me Jesus.” 

I snorted. I could see why. “I ain’t callin’ you ‘Jesus’. Even if you do look the part.” 

Paul chuckled, and winked at me, causing me to blush and look away. I pleaded Rick with my eyes to move this along. 

“Well, Paul...” Rick started. “We gotta car down the road a ways. Why don’t you come with us to Alexandria for the night. You and Daryl can take the car, I’ll lead with the truck. And when we get there, we’ll give you some supplies for your people and you can keep the car.” 

‘Well, that’s an overly generous offer for someone who just stole our keys, almost stole the livelihood of our entire group,’ I thought to myself, but kept my trap shut. Rick’s the leader, not me. 

Apparently, Paul agreed. “No, you guys need the food worse than us.” 

“There’s more ‘an food in the truck, jackass. Shit like toothpaste and toilet paper in there, too. That kinda shit you ain’t gonna grow outta the ground.” 

Paul looked at me, abashedly, and blushed madly. Red was a good color on him. “You’re too generous,” he said. Damn right, we were! “I’ll come with. Thank you.” 

Rick turned back to the vending machine. “There something you wanted outta this, Daryl?” 

“Yeah,” I replied. “Denise wants soda. The chocolate will be shit by now, but maybe some of the candy will be alright.” 

Rick picked up his crowbar and smashed the glass. “Then get your soda and candy and let’s beat. Daylight’s wastin’.” 

Paul helped me gather the goods, loading his skinny arms with more than he should have been able to carry. We turn around to see Rick raising the back of the truck so we could throw our armloads in. Paul got a good look at what he almost stole. 

“Wow, that’s a hell of a find, guys.” 

“We know. Got lucky, I guess,” I countered, as Rick slammed the door closed and latched it. 

Rick climbed into the driver’s seat, and I opened the passenger door. Then I facepalmed. There was only two seats in the truck! “There’s only two seats in the damn truck, Rick! Where we all gonna sit?” 

Paul cleared his throat, and I whipped my head around to face him. “Um,” he was freakin’ blushing again! “I don’t mind riding on your lap until we get to the car.” 

I had to give him props. The idea had merit. A lot of it. 

“Whatever. It ain’t far, anyhow,” I grumbled, pretending to be put out about it. And I was pretending very hard, indeed. I couldn’t wait ta get him on my lap, not that he or Rick needed to know that! 

I climbed into the seat, and Paul followed, sitting on my lap side-saddle like, his legs pointing to Rick. If our supply bags hadn’t been takin’ up the space between the seats, he coulda sat there, but I found myself glad that he couldn’t. 

Rick started to drive, and the rough road kept the truck bumpin’ Paul almost off my lap. I had to wrap my arm around him to keep him in place. 

“So, where you from?” I asked quietly. I didn’t need ta speak loudly, seeing as how my mouth was just inches from his left ear. 

“It’s a gated community called The Hilltop. It’s just a bunch of FEMA trailors placed in front if the Barrington House. Um, that’s a museum. It’s been going since the beginning of this... thing that’s been happening, with the dead and all.” He shook his head. “Our leader, Gregory, is pretty much useless. He’s never worked outside with the people, never been outside the walls. And I can almost guarantee you that he’s never had to kill one of the dead.” 

“The guy sounds like an asshole,” I responded. 

“Yeah,” Paul replies, turning his head to grin at me, “and not in a good way.” He winked at me again. My eyes darted down to his lips and back to his eyes. He turned away from me again, his long hair blocking his face, and the truck went quiet. It remained silent for the few minutes it takes ta get to our original car. 

I opened the door as Rick slowed to a stop, and helped Paul down off my lap before climbing out behind him. Rick handed me the key to the car and my pack from between the seats. I grab my crossbow off the floor and slam the door. I walked the few feet to the car and opened the back door, tossing in my things, then got in the driver seat. Paul was already in the passenger seat. Rick pulled up beside us and rolled down the window. I rolled down mine as well. 

“Alright, follow me. And don’t try anything, Jesus!” he added in a yell. 

Paul laughed. “Only my friends get to call me ‘Jesus!’” 

Rick pulled out and I followed, our small convoy was headed back home. The quiet that permeated the truck had followed us into the car, and it wasn’t a comfortable silence. Paul kept lookin’ at me and looking away again. It was getting on my nerves. My arms flexed as I gripped the steering wheel tighter. 

“Keep your eyes to yourself, dickhead. This ain’t a peepshow.” 

“No, it’s a gun show,” he retorted. 

I blushed madly, but pretended was turning red in anger as I yelled back, “What the hell does that mean?” 

“Nothing, just sayin’.” We were both blushing by that point, but Paul was looking down at his hands held in his lap. “I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, Daryl. I just... Well... I’ve never met someone like you before.” 

I looked over at him, my grip tightened once again on the wheel. “You mean you ain’t never met a grouchy, dirty redneck from Georgia?” 

“No,” Paul yelled. “No. I mean I’ve never met someone who had no idea how gorgeous they are.” 

He went there. He really went there. 

“The hell you say...” 

“I mean it!” 

I looked away from him, shaking my head so my hair hid my burning face. “Need ta get your eyes checked, seein’ shit that ain’t there.” 

Thing is, I know I ain’t ugly. Before the world ended, I never had any problem with how I looked. But gorgeous? Com’on. Especially now that I am wearing threadbare clothes and haven’t shaved in months. This asshole was delusional. But at least he shut up for the rest of the ride.


	2. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alexandria throws a party. Daryl and Paul plan an after-party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back. Again, IDK how to HTML shit. Sorry.  
I found a kind of solution, but it removed my italics. I might re-add them later. Enjoy.

After we got home to Alexandria, everyone gathered ‘round to help unload the truck and fill the pantry. We even had to find more shelves and do a lot of rearranging to make everything fit. To say Olivia was pleased was too damn little. She was fucking walkin’ on air.

Rick and I put some supplies in the car for Paul. I’d have noticed if he’d had a gun while he was sittin’ on my lap, so we added a couple handguns to his bounty, and a couple boxes of ammo.

Speakin’ of Paul, he was runnin’ around introducing himself to everyone. The whole ‘I’m Paul, but you can call me ‘Jesus’’ bullshit. I was pretty sure most of our people were gonna go ahead and call him that. They’d think it was funny.

“Maggie and Carol think we should have a party,” Rick told me as we were finishing up with the car. “They already got Eric and the ladies in the kitchens cookin’ everything up.” He nudged me with his shoulder as we walked to the house together. “You gonna come?”

I thought on it for a moment. I didn’t go to the last party Alexandria threw for us, after all. But I knew Paul wasn’t gonna miss out, and I wanted to be there. For the eye candy.

“Yeah, guess so. But only since I’m hungry and don’t wanna cook for myself.” Rick didn’t need to know what I was really hungry for.

We arrived at his house and parted ways. I went upstairs to my room in Rick’s attic. I knew I didn’t have time to shower, but I wanted to change clothes. Thank God for Carol and her insistence on washing my laundry!

I removed my boots and worn out socks first. Then I shrugged out of my vest and laid it neatly on the foot of my bed, which was just a mattress on the floor. I don’t need much. The dirty button up plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves that I’d been wearing for three days came off next. I tossed it in the hamper along with my socks. The jeans that I removed next could be worn again before washing. I put my holster and belt on my bed and threw the jeans in the corner. I considered changing my underwear, but figured I’d save the clean ones for after my shower.

I put on a pair of black slacks and a dark blue long-sleeved button up, and rolled the sleeves up to my elbows. Then I found a clean pair of socks and put my boots back on.

I wondered for a moment if Paul would like what he saw. I already knew the little thief wanted me. Wasn’t sure why, but he did. I wanted him too. I ran my hand over my face as I sighed, and rubbed again at my chin.

I went back out to the hallway and walked to the bathroom. “Hey Rick,” I yelled into the hall. “You still here?”

“Yeah, whatdya need?”

“Can I use your shaving shit?”

Rick actually laughed. “Why, Daryl! I thought you’d never ask!”

Asshole.

I slammed the door and turned back to the counter where Rick had everything neatly laid out. Scissors, shaving foam, razor handle and blade refills. Cologne, deodorant, soaps. And on the corner was a neatly folded little handtowel with an embroidered Santa Claus and ‘Merry Christmas’ in big red letters. I bet Michonne picked it out. She likes stupid things like that.

I couldn’t grow nearly as impressive of a beard as Rick could. I hardly had anything more than wisps on my chin, less on my cheeks, and practically nothing on my neck. The scissors were used to chop off the bit hanging from the end of my chin before I got my face wet and lathered with the cream.

Snapping the old blade off and putting on a fresh’un, I shaved.

And damn, did I look hot as hell afterwards.

___

The party wasn’t crazy. They had set it up outside in the street. Abraham and Glenn were boasting about the bonfire they’d managed to put together which was roaring several yards away from the table laden with the food everyone had prepared. A couple dining tables had been dragged out of houses and set up with chairs for everyone. There was a picnic table as well, with benches on either side, set close to the buffet table where I was loading my plate. Paul was sitting alone on one side while Maggie and Sasha were chatting with him on the other.

“I miss marshmellows,” I overheard Maggie say. “And barbeques.”

“Mmm, ribs and cheeseburgers,” Sasha added. “What do you miss most, Jesus?”

He raised his hand to his beard and stroked it contemplating. I listened closely for his answer. “Camping out in the woods without being afraid. Without having to sleep with both eyes open and both ears tuned into my surroundings.”

“Never been camping before all this,” Sasha replied.

I set my plate on the table and sat next to Paul. “My whole life growin’ up was pretty much a campin’ trip. Spent more time outdoors than in.” I turned to Paul and smiled. “I miss it too.”

He looked over at me, and his eyes grew heated. “Why, Mister Dixon. You look nice tonight.”

The girls across from us giggled and tucked into their food. I glared at them.

I leaned in to whisper in his ear so they couldn’t overhear me. “Thanks. Did it for you.”

Paul smirked as I moved back.

Carl, who had been off chatting with Enid, also arrived late, and there were no seats left at the tables when they finished filling their plates. I scooted closer to Paul when Carl sat next to me. Give the kid some breathin’ room. Take some o’ Paul’s away. Works for me.

“So, Daryl,” Maggie started, “I was going through a box that was in that truck y’all brought home. Guess what I found?”

“Porn?”

Carl elbowed me hard in the arm, but laughed.

“Nooo, you perv,” she laughed. “Seeds. Quite a few different vegetables and fruits. Not only did you get weeks worth of canned goods, you brought back sustainability. Thank you for that,” Maggie said.

“That’s awesome!” I replied. And it really was. More things we could grow, the less risk on our lives goin’ out and scavenging.

Paul nudged me and I looked over at him again. His eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I’m sorry. If I’d have stolen that truck, you all would be-”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Yer here now. Everyone gets to eat tonight, and eat good. If you’da managed to steal the truck, I’d have had to go huntin’ for some deer. We’d still be eating, and we’d be glad for it.”

“Daryl’s right,” Carl said, and everyone else at the picnic table nodded. “We’ve had to survive on less. Daryl’s a good provider, and a good hunter. We wouldn’t have died.”

“Some of the people here wouldn’t say so. The ones who been here since the beginning. But Carl’s right,” Sasha smiled. “If you’d have stolen Daryl, we’d be done for,” she added with a smirk.

I blushed bright red when Paul said, “I still might.” And I was sure he meant it.

Right then, Rick stood up from one of the tables and rung a spoon on his glass. “I’d like to raise a toast to our new friend Jesus, who almost stole our truck, but didn’t. Because he has a good heart and didn’t want us all to starve! To Jesus!”

“To Jesus,” everyone cried.

“To PAUL,” I grumbled, but drank to the toast anyways.

Although he was hiding his face in embarrassment, Paul slowly started moving his leg, rubbing it against mine. The little asshole. I kicked at him. “You wanna stop that?”

“Stop what?” He continued rubbing against me, and I kicked him again.

“Stop makin’ me wish I’d hung you up a damn tree! Jesus!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Daryl.”

My lips twitched as I tried to keep from smiling at him. “Sure, because yer just so innocent.”

Paul leaned in close to my ear. “If we leave the party now,” he whispered, “you can show me your room... where you said I could stay the night... I’ll show you just how innocent I can be.”

Fuck.

I felt my groin notch an arrow right there.

Fuck.

“Let’s go. Now,” I whispered back.

He slid off the bench first, me not far behind. “Goodnight ladies. Give our excuses if anyone asks,” Paul requested.

The girls were beet red but nodded, giggling.

Our arms brushed as we walked to the Grimes house. “So, are we really doing this?” Paul asked.

“Hell yeah.”

I led him inside, not bothering to shut the door behind me, and up the stairs. We were almost to my room on the top floor when I saw the bathroom. “Really need a shower ‘fore we do anything,” I admitted. “You?”

“Yeah, I need one too,” Paul replied. “Ran a lot today. My asscrack is all sweaty,” he laughed.

I shuddered. “I’ll get some clean clothes for us both, then join you.”

“Sounds great.” He started to take his clothes off, and I was torn between watching him and grabbing the clothes. He got his gloves and trench coat off before I bolted down the hall.

It took some time finding clothes that would fit Paul. I ended up having to steal some from Rick’s room. I knew Rick wouldn’t give a shit. The sight before me when I returned to the bathroom was breathtaking.

Paul, completely naked and bent over the side of the bathtub, hand adjusting the water temperature.

Oh, dear Lord in Heaven, what a sight. I began peeling off my clothes, not taking my eyes off that rounded ass. I could see dark hair in the crevice, and my mouth watered.

He turned to face me, and I licked my lips. Our gazes were traveling at the speed of light to soak in the image of each other.

“You have hot water here,” Paul noted.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“It’s ready, now,” he said.

I stepped closer until I was towering over him. “Better get in, then.”


	3. Fire and Brimstone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesus isn't Holy. Daryl has proof.

If Paul was a roadsign, it would be “Slippery When Wet”. He’s squirmy too. Wouldn’t stop movin’ while my hands roamed his body; the lather I was workin’ onto him and all over him helped my hands glide over his chest, arms, back.

His tongue against mine was also deserving of a caution sign, cuz it made breathin’ a lil difficult. I threw caution to the wind and kissed him deeper, swallowing his moans and riding the waves as he bucked against me.

My soapy hands slip-slathered down. Paul had said his asscrack was sweaty. Figured I’d wash that, too.

I slid my hand between his firm cheeks, feelin’ the dark hair grow thicker where his skin grew hotter. His leg lifted as I rubbed deeper and he choked into my mouth when my fingertips caught on his rim.

So I did it again. Gobbled up all the delicious noises he made as he opened up for me.

There’s no way Paul is anything like Jesus. He’s fire and brimstone on the inside, sin personified on the out; and the way he cursed as I shoved two fingers in as deep as they could go was downright blasphemous.

He’d ripped his mouth from mine, threw his head back, and shouted, “Holy fuck, yeah Daryl, fuck me fuck me, you beast!”

There’s nothing Holy about what I was doin’ to him, or what I’d do to him next.

I pulled out my fingers and roughly turned him around. He laid his hands against the wall and pushed his ass up, his legs far enough apart for me to see that thick dark hair leading down to his danglin’ nutsack.

The water was still pourin’ over us and by that point, all the soap was gone. Washed away with our inhibitions, replacing them with drops that tasted like lust and desire when I licked them off his skin.

I grabbed Judith’s baby oil off the side of the tub and poured it down his crack, shoving it in deep with my fingers. He was loose, open, ready to go. I know now that he has toys at the Hilltop, but figured then that he was used to being used. I was gonna use him. He was gonna take it.

After all, he moaned like a fuckin’ slut.

I didn’t ask if he was ready. He’d been begging for my dick, so I gave it to ‘em. Just aimed and fired, and Paul cried like he’d been shot.

His whole body was shakin’ inside and out. I just gripped his slick hips and held on for the ride. He was buckin’ back onto me, howling like a cat in heat, “fu- fu- fu-” and “unh ha ha” ‘s drowning out the sound of the pattering water against his skin.

I leaned over his back, slurping water off his neck, reached around him and grabbed his dick, squeezing harder that I personally enjoy. But Paul was gonna take whatever I gave to him, and judgin’ by the gurgle that fought up from his throat, he liked it.

I let go of his hip with my other hand, using it to shove a still oily finger under his foreskin, runnin’ it around and around, six times before he exploded; erupting the fire and brimstone onto my hand and sliding off my dick, almost falling to the floor of the shower as his knees collapsed.

I quickly stopped his fall, my arms bulging as I picked him back up and shoved him against the wall.

Nothin’ he said made any sense, pure jibberish, as I fucked back into him. I grabbed his hair and pulled his head to the side, sucked deep red marks into his jugular. His cries got louder again, he begged for “more, harder, fuck, more baby” and the “ah ah ah” ‘s were shouts the party outside was sure to enjoy almost as much I was.

I like fulfilling special requests. Glenn wants condoms, Denise wants soda, Michonne wants lotion, Carl wants comics, and Paul wants it rough.

I’m good at deliverin’.

He cums again on the shower wall as I soak his insides. That time, I allowed us both to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Leave a comment if you hated it. Thanks.


End file.
